Number Thirty-Four
by umklaine
Summary: Kurt is young and finally thriving in the city of his dreams; New York. But one day changes everything and suddenly Kurt is trying to live the rest of his life in 6 months. He meets Blaine, who helps and complicates things at the same time.
1. Chapter 1

Six months.

Kurt felt his face drain of color as he sat in the uncomfortable wooden chair in the doctor's office. He could hear Burt stiffen beside him and then the sound of Carole holding back sobs, but he couldn't move. He didn't even know if he was still breathing. He kept his eyes forward, his vision fixed on a chip in the paint on the wall behind the doctor's desk.

How could this be happening? Just last week he was shopping with Rachel and humming along to his favorite songs in the car with Santana. He was roaming the streets of New York, on his way to his job at . He was spending every waking minute since he'd moved to New York three months ago doing something exciting, living the life he'd dreamed of since he was a freshmen in high school. Only now that his dreams were finally becoming real, everything was being ripped away from him within an hour.

Cancer. Kurt had cancer and he had six months to live. It started with headaches, one every two weeks or so but then they were becoming more and more frequent. Then Kurt was feeling nauseous a lot of the time and he couldn't stand for long periods of time. After three months of the weird behavior Burt finally managed to convince Kurt to go to the doctors and now here they were, a week and half of tests later. The tumor was malignant, the doctors said, and it was a grade three growth. Kurt had an estimated six months without treatment, but the five year survival rate was very slim and the doctors weren't sure if Kurt would fall into that lucky 13%, even with treatment. He could try to treat it with chemotherapy, to buy himself a little more time, or he could do nothing and let the tumor grow inside him until it finally killed him.

He hadn't thought it was anything serious when he started getting headaches. They were just headaches, he'd told his father, they weren't going to kill him. But three months ago Kurt hadn't thought it was possible for him, an almost twenty year old man, to have something as serious as a brain tumor. There was no way. Now here he was, sitting in his doctor's office with his dad and stepmom by his side listening to some doctor tell him he had six months to live. Six months.

After a few more stunned minutes of silence, Burt cleared his throat and pushed Carole out of his lap before standing to awkwardly shake the doctor's hand. They exchanged a few words and Kurt waited to move until Carole had composed herself enough to leave the room. He muttered a quiet goodbye to the doctor before slipping out the the room to lean against the wall in the hallway.

He didn't know what to do next. What are you supposed to do after you find out you have six months to live? Kurt didn't know, but he really wished he did because now it felt like every second he spend doing nothing was being wasted. There was something he could be doing right now, something important and exciting and fun, instead of just standing against a wall feeling so helpless. Burt was standing next to him with Carole in his arms, and Kurt turned to mutter something about getting some air before he pushed the doors of the building open and stepped into the sun.

It was early December so it was just starting to get chilly out, and Kurt pulled the sleeves of his sweater further down his arms and tighter against his chest as he made his way to his car. Oddly enough, Kurt felt nothing as he shut the door to his Navigator. He knew thathe should probably be crying, or maybe he should be angry and bitter, but instead he felt numb. Like it hadn't really hit him yet. He pulled out of the parking lot and drove home in silence for the first time since moving to New York. He was always listening to music in the car, or on the phone with Rachel or Santana, but now he just didn't feel like it. He didn't feel like crying or screaming, but he didn't feel like himself and he didn't feel like humming along to some happy song when he'd just been told he was going to die.

Once he was back at the apartment he shared with Rachel and Santana, he found Rachel curled up on the couch. she'd been waiting for him, he realized, because when she heard him walk in she sat up and muted the TV.

"Well?" She asked expectantly, wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. Kurt moved closer to the couch and sat at the edge of the cushion.

"Six months," he barely managed to choke out before he was curling up into her arms, his body shaking with silent sobs as Rachel rocked him back and forth.

"Oh my god, oh my god," Rachel kept murmuring into his hair, over and over, until she started crying too and then they held onto each other in silence, nothing but the sound of their occasional sniffles filling the room until finally Rachel composed herself enough to speak.

"No, no. No." She said, pushing away from him. "This isn't how it was supposed to go, Kurt! We just got here! We haven't done anything, we haven't even lived yet!" She cried. Kurt shuffled in closer and tightened his hold on her waist but didn't try to calm her down. There was no point. "We were supposed to see each other get married, and-and you were supposed to fall in love and-and, no.." she shook her head. "No, no, no."

"Rachel," Kurt whispered, but he couldn't force any reassuring words out of his mouth. "How am I gonna tell Finn? And Santana and Mercedes and -"

"I don't.. I don't know, Kurt. I -" but Rachel couldn't finish her sentence. They lay together on the couch, wrapped in each other's arms for over an hour before Kurt finally had to sit up and rub the knot out of his neck. He adjusted himself so her was sitting with his back against the cushion behind him, wringing his fingers together in his lap. His cheeks were tight and red with dry tears and he couldn't bring himself to look at Rachel, to look at his best friend after he'd just told her he was dying. The door swung open a few seconds later and Santana came trotting in, shopping bags in her hands and sunglasses covering her eyes.

"What's going on?" She asked, sliding the door shut behind her as she dropped her bags into the recliner and pushed the sunglasses up onto her head. Kurt finally looked up from where he'd been staring at the wooden floor and into her eyes. He didn't have to say anything before Santana was flinging herself at him, her arms flying around his neck. She dipped her face into the crook of his neck and Kurt felt her body start to shake as the tears started to fall. Rachel started crying again next to him, but Kurt couldn't find anymore tears to shed.

"Six months," he whispered for the second time, and Santana's body shook harder under his hold. She kept crying, and her tears soaked into his shirt, but Kurt couldn't cry anymore. He wouldn't let himself. He wasn't going to spend what little time he had left crying over something he couldn't change. Once Santana calmed down some, she pulled away and sat on the coffee table behind her, so that she was facing Kurt and Rachel, who were still seated on the couch.

"What - What exactly did the doctors say?" She asked, wiping a stray tear off her cheek.

"They.. I don't know, exactly. I kind of stopped listening after they said the words 'cancer' and 'six months'." He admitted, scooting forward on the couch. He placed a hand on Santana's knee and laced his free hand with Rachel's. "But I - I want to make the most of this. I don't want to sit around everyday waiting for it to happen. They said I could have chemo if I wanted, but.." He shook his head.

"But what? You're not doing it? You're not going to try? You're not going to at least _try_ to fight it off a little longer?" Santana asked, anger suddenly apparent in her voice.

"At the most chemo will give me maybe two more months, Tana. I'm too far along. Chemo is long and hard and tiring, and by the end of it I'd probably want to die anyway." Kurt told her. Rachel flinched at his words next to him but he just squeezed her hand harder.

"But -"

"I know, I know. I know this isn't how it was supposed to go, Santana. I _know._ But I don't want to spend the few months I have left in a hospital bed, Tana. I don't." Rachel had gone quiet next to him and he turned to look at her now. "I want to spend it with my two best friends and my family in New York, in the city of my dreams with my favorite people. That's all I want. That's all I've ever wanted."

There was a moment where no one said anything else, just the sound of car horns and the bustle of the city below filling their apartment before Santana spoke again.

"Okay," she said, nodding to herself once before looking up to meet his gaze. He tapped her knee once and she moved from her spot on the coffee table to the couch cushion next to him. Kurt leaned back again and Rachel and Santana each cuddled into one of his sides, their arms wrapping around his waist and squeezing tight. He placed a kiss to each of their foreheads before dropping his chin to let it rest in Rachel's hair. He had a lot to do now - people to call and papers to sign - but for now he was perfectly fine sitting here in his shoe box apartment with his two best friends, listening to the sounds of the city that never sleeps.

* * *

A few days later, after emotional phone calls to Mercedes and Mike in LA, Tina, Brittany, Artie, the rest of the glee club and Finn in Ohio, Kurt busied himself by cleaning out his room while he waited for his parents to arrive. They were staying with him and the girls in his apartment until their flight home the next day.

He hadn't decided if he was going back to school after Christmas break. What was the point if he wasn't going to be around to graduate? Burt might not be pleased with the decision, but it was the only thing that seemed logical to him anymore. Why pay thousands of dollars to graduate with a degree in something he'll never get to do? Kurt shook his head. Now wasn't the time to be thinking so hard about these things anyway. He still had six months, though each time he told himself that he didn't know whether it was a long time or a short time.

He'd decided to start going through his belongings the day before, set on giving away anything he would no longer need and making sure there was nothing valuable to leave his family and friends once he was gone. He was saving his father and Rachel and Santana the trouble and the pain of having to do it themselves. So far the only things he'd thought valuable enough to leave behind were the picture of him and his father at his high school graduation, his senior yearbook from McKinley, and a few of the keepsakes he had of all his friends. Santana had walked in on him shuffling through his belongings a few times, and every time she did she'd leave the room sulking. Rachel had come in to sit on his bed, just watching him. They'd spent a good hour and a half laughing and smiling and reminiscing over old high school drama and events. After that Rachel mumbled something about having to leave and slipped out before Kurt could say anything to her.

It was hard for them, Kurt knew it was. But it was just as hard for him, maybe harder, to be the one to watch them suffer because of him. Because Rachel and Santana were losing their best friend and Burt was losing his only son. Because Carole was losing her stepson and Finn was losing a brother. He hated it; he hated everything about it and he hated himself for causing everyone he loved to be in so much pain. But there was nothing he could do.

He slid the last cardboard box out from the back corner of his closet and slipped the cover open. There wasn't much in it, just a few book and a couple of notebooks from his freshmen year. He wasn't even sure why he still had them buried back there, they were useless now and there was no point in keeping the,. But as he flipped through the last few pages of the notebook at the top of the pile, Kurt knew why. They were his journals - the only friends he'd had entering high school. He sighed and thumbed through the pages one more time before shutting the notebook and tossing it onto the floor next to him. As he did so, a single, folded up piece of paper fell into his lap.

He unfolded the sheet gently, careful not the bend the edges or crinkle the paper. He couldn't help but giggle as he read the top left hand corner.

'Kurt Hummel's Bucket List'

He brought a hand to cover his mouth as he held back a giggle and skimmed through the list. Most of them were stupid, but Kurt couldn't blame himself - he was only a freshmen when he'd made the list. Some of them were actually pretty clever, and as Kurt finished reading the list of 34 items he realized he'd never completed a single one.


	2. Chapter 2

Santana had been avoiding him. Kurt couldn't tell if she was doing it on purpose or if she was actually too busy to spend more than two hours in the apartment at a time, but she was avoiding him. It'd been a week since he'd told her the news and they hadn't had a decent conversation since, not counting the three or four arguments they'd had concerning the chemotherapy issue. Besides that, the most she'd said to him was "pass the syrup," or yell at him to "get the hell out of the bathroom."

It was obvious to him that Santana was taking this harder than he predicted she would. Santana was one of his best friends, of course it was hard on her, but the fact that Kurt refused to go through with the chemo made things worse. Rachel understood, or at least she seemed to, and although at first they hadn't agreed either, Burt, Carole, and Finn had all excepted Kurt's decision. But Santana could not and would not except the fact that Kurt didn't want to do it. She didn't understand why Kurt didn't want to keep fighting; why he was apparently giving up and giving in to the idea that in six short months he's just going to stop - stop breathing, stop laughing, stop smiling, stop living.

To be perfectly honest, Kurt hadn't allowed himself to think about it in over a week. He swore to himself he wasn't going to spend the last months of his life feeling sorry for himself.

Today though, Kurt and Santana were home together at the apartment. Burt had come to visit for a while - he seemed to be doing that a lot lately - but he and Rachel left around the same time to go run some errands. Burt had to get back to his hotel to help Carole pack, their flight home (which Kurt had forced them to book) was scheduled for the next day. Santana had come out briefly to say hello to Burt but she'd disappeared back into her room not long after. Kurt was sitting in the kitchen at the table with a bowl of soup and the latest issue of 'Vogue' magazine. It was only a matter of time before Santana padded out of her room for some food, so he waited. When she finally did, he was surprised when she fixed herself a plate of food and sat down across from him. Kurt just shot a confused look in her direction before turning his attention back to his magazine. She would talk when she was ready.

After what seemed like the most awkward 10 minutes of Kurt's life, he finally heard Santana whisper a quiet "sorry," without looking up from her plate. He dropped his magazine and set his spoon down on the table.

"Tana -"

"No, Kurt. I mean it, I'm sorry. I've been bitching at you for a week to take the goddamn treatment. I'm not saying I'm gonna stop, cause we all know I'm not gonna give up. Not until you're laying in that goddamn hospital bed." Kurt blinked and waited while Santana seemed to gather her thoughts. "But I've been so angry, trying to get you to just _listen_ to me, that I haven't even stopped to think that maybe.. Maybe this is harder on you than it is on me." She let out a breath Kurt didn't know she'd been holding and lifted her head to look him in the face. "I'm just.. I'm sorry." _  
_

"It's okay," Kurt said after a second, because he didn't know what else to say. "It's okay, I'm okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

"_Okay? _Okay, Kurt? Are you kidding me? This whole situation is _anything_ but okay!" She shrieked, suddenly angry with him all over again.

"Jesus, Santana! What d'you want me to say?"

"I want you to tell me you'll do it. Say you'll do the chemo and -"

"Stop," he said, pushing away from the table and standing. "I'm not doing it Santana. At least as of right now. Maybe down the line I'll change my mind, but who knows. And I'm sorry if that makes you angry but this is _my _and I don't want to spend the rest of my life in a hospital bed, which you know will happen. Because even you know the chemo won't save me."

* * *

Kurt spent the next two hours locked in his room. He felt bad about arguing with Santana but he didn't know what else to do or say. She obviously wasn't going to forgive him for refusing the chemo - she probably never would, even after he was gone - but if he could at least apologize for throwing the fact that he was going to die in her face, he'd feel a little better about it.

Eventually, he decided to drive to the mall and find something nice for her. He knew as well as anyone else that buying her shit until she forgave him was the easiest way out, but he didn't really care at that point. He just didn't want to spend the rest of his life (literally) trying to get his best friend forgive him. Maybe he'd get her that summer outfit she wanted, even though summer was months away. Or maybe he could get her a nice pair of earrings or something. Anything. He got dressed in a pair of comfortable but warm sweats and pulled a hoodie that he was sure was Finn's over his head before grabbing his keys off the kitchen table. He hadn't bothered to get dressed up like he usually did. He called to Santana that he was going out, but he didn't get a reply. He let out a frustrated sigh before getting in his car and making his way to the mall.

He spent about a half hour walking through one of Santana's favorite stores before leaving empty handed. There was almost nothing in that store that she didn't already have. In the end he decided to get her some kind of jewelry, because you could never have enough jewelry, and slipped into the first jewelry store he saw. It was small and quiet, and practically empty save for himself, the cashier and a few other shoppers.

He made his way over to a shelf near the back of the store, stacked with bracelets and necklaces of all sizes and colors. Kurt didn't have the slightest idea where to begin. He had no idea what kind of jewelry Santana preferred, and judging by the price tags taped to the necklaces on the shelf, he wasn't going to be able to afford any of them.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" Someone asked from behind him, and Kurt turned around to see a young man about his age, maybe younger, dressed in the black and white uniform for the store. His hair was gelled back and his eyes were a golden-honey color and he was absolutely beautiful, Kurt thought, and then he had to remind himself that he was in a public place and staring is rude.

"Uh, yeah, actually. I was.. I'm looking for a nice necklace, or a bracelet maybe. One that's not too expensive." He told the worker.

"Is it for anyone special? Mother, girlfriend?" The man asked, and Kurt couldn't help but chuckle.

"My mother's dead, and I'm gay. So neither," he deadpanned. He felt kind of bad after saying it, because the employee's expression saddened briefly and it made Kurt feel guilty. The boy cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I'm sorry about your mom." He said. Kurt waved him off.

"It was a long time ago," he told him, even though after all this time just the thought of his mother made his chest ache a little.

"Alright," the man said, turning on his heels. "Our cheaper selections are over this way." Kurt followed him to the other side of the store, near the front. "I hope you find something. I'll help you at the register when you're done and if you have any questions feel free to find me again." Kurt thanked him and turned towards the glass cases.

The entire time he was looking for something for Santana he couldn't help but think that goddamn, that boy was beautiful. But then he would have to remind himself to stop, that he probably wasn't even gay.

After another fifteen minutes staring at the necklaces in the glass case, he finally decided on a relatively cheap silver chain with a heart pendant. He wandered towards the register, hoping to find the cashier or another employee that could help him. When the same employee from before appeared from the 'employees only' room behind the register, Kurt called him over.

"Decide on something nice?" He asked with a small smile as he made his way over to the case, digging into his pocket and pulling out a ring of keys.

"I think so," Kurt replied, following behind. He pointed out the chain and the man unlocked the glass and pulled it out. Kurt followed silently behind him to the counter and watched as he worked, taking the price tag off at Kurt's request and placing the necklace in a rectangular red box.

"It's gonna be $43.50," he said, slipping the box into a small bag. Kurt handed him the money and waited patiently for his change.

"Thank you," Kurt smiled as he took the bag from him and stuck the receipt into the pocket of his sweatpants. Oh god. He'd totally forgotten what he looked like and blushed a little when the man saw his eyes widen.

"No problem," he smiled, and Kurt could feel himself turn redder. He practically ran out of the store and didn't stop until he was sitting in his car, the jewelry bag clutched to his chest. He may be dying, but even he didn't like running into cute guys when he looked like shit.

* * *

When he got home, he let himself in with his key. He figured Santana wouldn't come open the door if she was still mad and Rachel wasn't due home for at least another two hours, maybe longer if she went out with Finn after class. She hadn't seen much of Finn since she and Kurt had moved to New York. Finn had stayed behind in Ohio with Burt to work in the shop until he could come up with the money to move into an apartment with Rachel in New York. Right now, he, Burt and Carole were still staying at a nearby hotel until their flight back home. They'd come to New York so that Burt and Carole could go to the doctor's appointment with Kurt, but now that it was over they had no reason to stay. Six months was still a while away and Kurt didn't expect or want them to put their lives on hold while they all waited for the inevitable to happen.

He shuffled into the kitchen and tossed his keys onto the table before taking the bag to Santana's room. He knocked once, twice, then waited. He heard shuffling on the other side of the door but Santana didn't say anything.

"Tana, c'mon. Opent he door," he called. There was more noise and suddenly music was playing loudly on the other side. He knocked again, louder this time. "Santana! Open the damn door!" He heard the music being turned down a few notches and he couldn't help but picture Santana rolling her eyes as she made her way across the room and pulled the door open.

"What?" She asked, her hand still on the door knob. Kurt lifted the bag up.

"I got you something." He tried taking a step forward but Santana closed the door a little more and he had to hold back an annoyed sigh.

"It's a necklace -"

"I don't want it." She said, and then the door was shutting in his face again. He let out a huff and left the box on the floor in front of the door.

* * *

The next day, Kurt woke to the sound of the shower running. Santana had left her room then, unless it was Rachel in the shower. Kurt slipped out of bed and tiptoed into Rachel's room careful not to wake her when he realized she was still sleeping, which meant the Santana was the one in the shower. He didn't bother to go in her room, a quick glance down the hall in the direction of her room told him she hadn't touched the bag. Frustrated, he moved down the hall and picked up the bag, then slunk back to his room and plopped down on his bed. He was definitely returning the necklace if Santana wasn't going to keep it. Still in the same sweatpants and hoodie from the day before, Kurt grabbed his keys off their spot on the table and headed back to the mall.

When he got there, he went straight for the jewelry store instead of roaming around the mall like he'd done the day before. He wasn't paying attention and walked right to the back of the store towards the register and straight into the man in front of him.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry!" He exclaimed, taking a step back. He looked up only to be greeted by the same golden-honey eyes as the day before. What were the chances he's run into the same attractive guy he'd met yesterday? Literally.

"It's not problem," the man chuckled, his eyes shining with amusement, a smirk playing on his lips. Kurt took another step back and took to straightening the hood of his sweatshirt so that he didn't have to look at the man in front of him. He was sure he looked a mess, wearing the same outfit as the day before, which Kurt _never_ did, and his hair going every which way. He wished he could snap his fingers and make himself disappear.

"We should stop meeting like this," the guy said. Kurt looked up at him.

"Like what, exactly?"

"On bad terms," he said, moving behind the counter to the register. Kurt stepped up to it and placed the bag on the counter. "The last time we met you told me your mother was dead."

"Ah," Kurt said, smiling a little as he shook his head. "That I did."

"Well if we're gonna keep meeting like this maybe I should introduce myself," the man said, holding out a hand across the counter. "My name's Blaine." Kurt shook his hand.

"Kurt," he said. They let go and the man across the counter looked down at the bag.

"What brings you back here today?" The man - Blaine - asked.

"Just uh, returning the necklace." Kurt told him.

"Oh?" Blaine asked, taking the box out of the bag and discarding the plastic into a waste basket under the desk.

"Yeah, my roommate didn't.. Like it very much." Kurt replied, eyeing a pair of earrings in the display case.

"That's unfortunate,"

"Eh," Kurt shrugged. A few moments of silence passed before Blaine spoke again.

"I'm gonna need a receipt," he told Kurt, looking up from the computer screen. Kurt rummaged through the pocket of his sweatpants. If Blaine noticed his repeated outfit, he didn't say anything. Finally, Kurt pulled out what he hoped was the receipt and handed it over the counter.

"Number one," Blaine said, smirking as he glanced up at Kurt quickly. "'Learn to ice skate.'"

"Oh my god," Kurt muttered, reaching across the counter in an attempt to snatch the paper back. It wasn't the receipt, it was the bucket list Kurt had torn out of his notebook. He had no idea how it'd even gotten there. He felt himself go red and he stood on his tiptoes in another effort to get the paper back.

"C'mon, Blaine!" Kurt cried, amused but embarrassed. "Give it back!" H wasn't exactly annoyed with Blaine - in a way it seemed like flirting to him, but hell if he knew. The last time he'd flirted with someone had been months ago. With another chuckle, Blaine handed the paper back to Kurt and waited for him to replace it with the receipt. He shook his head, smile still apparent on his lips as he finished with the necklace. Kurt stood there awkwardly, his cheeks still flushed as he looked down at the tile floor.

"I could teach you," Blaine said, looking up from the computer once again.

"Excuse me?"

"To ice skate, I mean. I'm pretty good at it myself," Blaine replied. He rested his hands against the counter top and Kurt folded the slip of paper with his list written on it back up and slipped it into his pocket.

"Are you?" Kurt teased, finally feeling brave enough to look up again. Blaine was smiling that goofy half smile all guys have and he looked so adorable that Kurt couldn't help but smile back.

"I am," Blaine told him, disappearing under the desk temporarily. He came back up with a piece of paper and a pen. He scribbled something down that Kurt couldn't read from where he was standing. When Blaine finally slid the paper across the counter towards him, a small smile spread across Kurt's face. Blaine's number was scribbled in the middle next to his name. "Call me." Blaine said, and then he stepping into the back room behind the counter.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm so sorry this took me so long to update! I promise I haven't abandoned this fic! I've just been really busy, between losing my grandma a few months ago and not being able to find the time to write. Hopefully I can start updating on a semi-regular basis again, but I'm not making any promises. Anyway, enjoy! Leave reviews and let me know how you guys like it! Thank you!**

* * *

Kurt had been pacing the living room floor for the past hour by the time Rachel finally walked in the door. Santana hadn't bothered to come out of her room when she heard Kurt come home so he'd been left to over think on his own until Rachel got out of work.

"Kurt, honey. You're gonna burn a trench in our carpet. Stop," Rachel told him, throwing her purse onto the couch and sitting. She watched Kurt pace a few more times before she reached up and caught him by the arm. "Kurt, talk to me."

"I don't know what to do," he said, finally giving up and dropping onto the couch next to Rachel. She let go of his arm and instead laced her fingers with Kurt's and rested their entwined hands on Kurt's knee.

"About what, honey?"

"Blaine.. I mean he's so cute, Rach, so extremely cute but -"

"Who's Blaine? Is he gay? Where'd you meet him? Oh my god," Rachel suddenly tightened her grip on Kurt's hand and he had to pry his fingers from her hold.

"I guess I forgot to tell you," Kurt told her, turning his head forward instead of looking at her. He was never good at talking to Rachel about guys without blushing. "I met him a few days ago, when I went to the mall."

"What'd you go to the mall for?"

"To buy Santana a gift, I was trying to get her to forgive me," he told her. "But that's not the point!" He said, slapping her on the shoulder.

"Alright, alright! Sorry, continue." She told him, swatting his hand away.

"He works in this jewelry store I went into and when I went to return the necklace I got for Santana I accidentally handed him my bucket list that I made in freshmen year instead of the receipt, which was really embarrassing by the way. But then he gave it back and told me he could teach me how to ice skate, and then he gave me his number and now I don't know if I should call him or when I should call him or why I'm freaking out so much over this," Kurt said, all in one breath. Rachel blinked a few times, the smallest smile playing across her lips.

"Kurt's freshmen year bucket list," she chuckled.

"Shut up," Kurt mumbled.

"You should definitely call him," she told him, suddenly serious again. "You never know."

"But Rachel.."

"But nothing, Kurt. If there's anyone that deserves to be happy it's you, and I'm not gonna let you give this up because you're nervous -"

"It's not - I'm not nervous." Rachel gave him a look and he dropped his gaze to the floor. "Okay, well maybe I am a little bit. But it's not just that."

"Then what is it, Kurt? What's stopping you?" Kurt looked back up at her.

"I'm dying, Rachel. I'm dying and he's not and I'm not gonna do that to him." Rachel blinked and lowered her head without saying anything. She knew what Kurt meant when he said he wasn't going to do 'that' to him; he wasn't going to let this guy - Blaine - grow attached to him and then just.. Die.

"Kurt.."

"Rachel, I'm sorry." He shrugged. "That's just the truth. I'm going to die; I _am_ dying, and I don't.. I can't do that to him."

"Kurt,"

"What?"

"Do you want to go? Do you want to get to know him?"

"Well, yeah, of course -"

"Then go_._ Worry about the rest later."

"But -"

"_Go." _

* * *

Two hours later, Kurt found himself digging through his closet with no idea what to wear. He'd called Blaine after his conversation with Rachel, Rachel sitting by his side listening the entire time. When he'd hung up, she clapped her hands together excitedly and ushered him into his room to get ready.

"You're absolutely no help," Kurt told her. She was sitting on his bed crossed-legged, painting her nails a new shade of pink that she'd bought on her way home from work.

"Listen, just wear something.. Casual. You don't wanna be too overdressed, but you don't wanna look under dressed either. It'll make it seem like you're not interested, and we both know you definitely are."

"Is this okay?" Kurt asked, holding up a grey pullover sweater and a pair of black skinny jeans. Rachel tilted her head to the side and clicked her tongue for a second before nodding.

"Wear your white Doc Martins."

"We're ice skating, I'll have to take them off," he told her.

"Doesn't matter, wear 'em anyways." She'd gone back to painting her nails and Kurt rolled his eyes before making his way to the bathroom to change. He had a little over 45 minutes to finish getting ready. Blaine had suggested they go tonight only because the rink tended to be less packed on Mondays.

Once he was dressed and his hair was coiffed the way he liked it, Kurt returned to his room and slipped into his designer boots. 45 minutes later and he was ready to leave, Rachel following him to the front door clapping excitedly behind him.

"I hope you have fun, Kurt! Oh my gosh I'm so happy for you!"

"Rachel, relax. It's just a date." He said, pulling his coat on over his sweater. Even though he was telling Rachel to relax, he couldn't seem to do so himself. The entire car ride to the rink, all he could think about was the ways tonight could go wrong, or what would happen in the future if everything went right. No matter which way he looked at it, he didn't see a happy ending for he and Blaine and it made him wish he'd never said yes to this date in the first place. He was just setting Blaine up for heart break.

Eventually, he got himself out of the car. At first there was no sign of Blaine, but as he moved closer to the shelves of ice skates he saw him; dressed casually in dark jeans and a jacket, a red scarf wrapped loosely around his neck as he waited in line with two pairs of ice skates in his hand. Kurt took a steadying breath before moving up to stand by Blaine's side in the line for the register.

"Oh, hey Kurt." Blaine said, a wide smile on his face.

"Hey," Kurt smiled back, he couldn't help it. Blaine had the kind of smile that made you want to stare at him forever, and Kurt had to look away after a minute.

"I uh, didn't know what size skate you were but I hope these are big enough," Blaine said, handing the skates to Kurt.

"They'll fit," Kurt told him, tucking them under his arm so he could rub his hands together.

"I have an extra pair of gloves if you want them," Blaine told him, reaching into his jacket pocket.

"Oh, no. It's fine," Kurt said, moving up in the line. When they'd finally payed to rent the skates, they found a bench to sit on while they changed into their skates. Kurt finished changing first and slid his boots under the bench while he waited for Blaine. When he was finished, Blaine stood up in front of Kurt and held out a hand.

"Need help getting up?" He asked. Kurt giggled.

"Probably," he took Blaine's hand and let him pull him up.

"So you've never done this before?" Blaine asked as they slowly made their way to the entrance of the rink. Kurt was already having a hard time balancing in the skates and he held onto Blaine's hand a little tighter when they reached the ice.

"No, I mean, I think my mom might have taken me here once when I was really little but I never actually skated. They didn't have skates in my size," Kurt told him. He smiled a little at the memory of his mother; one of the only ones he had. Blaine nodded. They skated a few minutes in silence, both of them staring down at Kurt's feet.

"You're doing pretty good," Blaine told him, smiling a little. "I'm gonna let go of your hand now, okay?" Kurt looked at him quickly before dropping his gaze back to his feet. "You'll be fine, I'm right here." Suddenly Blaine's hand was no longer in his and Kurt wobbled a little on his skates, and then he was doing it; he was skating on his own and he'd gone farther than two feet without falling on his ass. Blaine was a few feet in front of him, skating backwards so he could watch Kurt.

"Show off," Kurt called to him, and Blaine chuckled before turning around and speeding up. "Blaine!"

"You're gonna have to catch me," Blaine called over his shoulder, and Kurt rolled his eyes with a playful smile. It'd been a little over a half hour since they'd started skating and still Kurt hadn't fallen, so he trusted himself enough to speed up a little. There wasn't many people there either, save for Blaine, himself, and a few other older couples. He wouldn't have to worry about crashing into any of them if he did happen to fall.

He sped up a little, putting one foot in front of the other and pushing off the ice. Blaine was slowing down some so he could actually give Kurt a chance to catch him, Kurt could tell. Soon Blaine was in arms reach of Kurt and all he had to do was reach out for him, but he stopped himself.

"What do I get if I catch you?" Kurt asked playfully.

"That's a good question," Blaine answered, turning around so he was skating backwards again. "How does dinner sound?"

"It sounds.. Lovely," Kurt told him. And it did. Kurt couldn't remember the last time a guy had offered to take him to dinner, let alone an attractive guy. With one last glide, Kurt was grabbing onto Blaine's shoulder through his jacket and blaine laughed, swinging an arm around Kurt's waist to steady him.

"Good job," Blaine teased, and Kurt blushed and looked away.

"Thanks,"

"So, dinner. We could leave now, if you want. I have reservations at a restaurant a few blocks away for 8 o'clock."

"How did you -" Kurt stopped midsentence and looked up to see Blaine smirking at him. "You already planned on taking me for dinner," he said.

"Yes," Blaine nodded. "I figured you wouldn't mind." Kurt just shook his head and dropped his gaze back down to the ice. Blaine's arm was still around his waist and he was trying really hard not to squeal in excitement. A few seconds later blaine tugged lightly on his waist and pulled him off the ice as they passed by the entrance. Kurt wobbled a few steps behind Blaine to the bench and sat down next to him to untie his skates. After he'd tied his boots back on, he followed behind Blaine with his skates in his hand to the counter so they could return them.

"Thank you," Kurt said to Blaine on their way back to the parking lot.

"The night's not over yet," Blaine said.

"Oh, I know. But thank you for teaching me to skate," Kurt told him, pulling his car keys out of his pocket. "It was fun."

"Don't worry about it," Blaine smiled. "Are you just gonna follow me to the restaurant then? Or do you wanna ride with me?"

"Um," Kurt blushed. "Whatever's easier for you."

"You can ride with me then, and we can come back and pick up your car afterwards."

"Alright," Kurt stuffed his keys back in his pocket and followed Blaine to his car. Blaine walked around the front of the car to open the passenger side door for Kurt and he blushed, ducking his head as he sat.

They drove the entire way to the restaurant filling the car with easy conversation, about music and art and literature. Kurt was thankful the Blaine didnt mind telling him about himself, because Kurt wasn't ready to drop the 'dying' bomb yet. He didnt think he'd ever be, but he knew Blaine deserved to know, deserved to know instead of going into this relationship blind. It wasnt fair to Blaine, but then again, Kurt thought, it wasnt fair to him either way.

When they got to the restaurant, Blaine found a parking space and quickly got out in order to open the car door for Kurt. They entered the restaurant and the employee led them to their table for two. Kurt had to congratulate Blaine, this was one of the only restaurants he and Rachel hadn't been to since moving. Not to mention the food was delicious and the wine was very high quality. They filled the air with conversation, much like in the car, but this time the questions were coming from Blaine, who was trying to figure out Kurt.

"So you're originally from Ohio?"

"Yeah, Lima. Awful place."

"Lima, that's only a few hours away from Westerville, right?" Kurt nodded.

"About 2,"

"I grew up in Westerville," Blaine said, taking a sip of the red wine in his glass.

"Really? Small world," Kurt smiled, taking another small bite of the pasta on his fork. His food was almost gone, as was Blaine's, but both were eating slow in an attempt to prolong the meal.

"Where'd you go to high school?" Blaine asked.

"McKinley High," Kurt said, shuddering just a little at the thought of the school.

"Dalton Academy," Blaine told him, and Kurt giggled. "What?" Blaine asked, a smile on his lips.

"Nothing, I just remembered something."

"Care to share?"

"My junior year, we competed against you guys in a glee club regionals competition. It was just.. A very interesting year." He smiled at the memory.

"Huh," Blaine mumbled. "I'm sure I would have remembered you."

"Maybe, maybe not. Doesn't matter." Kurt told him, shrugging.

"So tell me about your family." Blaine picked up a fork full of salad and kurt watched his jaw line as he chewed, swallowed. He had to look away when he started imagining him swallowing other things.

"Well, uh. For most of my life it was just me and my dad, Burt. Like I told you, my mom passed when I was eight."

"I'm sorry," Blaine interrupted.

"Don't be. It was a long time ago, I told you that."

"Still, it must have been hard. Growing up without a mom," Kurt just nodded in reply.

"My dad was - well, he tried, ya know? There was a lot he could do for me, once we got back on our feet, but I always connected with my mom in a way I didn't with my dad. I mean, she knew I was gay by the time I was three."

"Really?"

"Yup. She just.. Understood me better than my dad did. But he was good. He tried, and he was a good dad. He _is _a good dad." Blaine nodded. "He got remarried a few years ago to a women named Carole. She's great, too. And then there's her son, Finn. He's dating my best friend Rachel. But they're great, all of them. They're really supportive of me, they always have been."

"That's amazing, Kurt. You're lucky," Blaine said, sipping his wine again. Kurt nodded. The waitress came and dropped a bill onto the table and Blaine thanked her before reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet.

"I know. But Blaine, there's something I.. Have to tell you. Before we.. Do _this _again." Kurt said, gesturing across the table between the two of them. Blaine put his fork down and swallowed.

"Anything."

"Alright, uh. This is kind of hard for me to say -"

"Take your time," Blaine said, reaching for Kurt's hand.

"I.. I have cancer."


End file.
